With Me
by ILikeInappropriateThings
Summary: One doesn't normally take Marik and Bakura for the lovey dovey, romancy type, but I do. So I wrote a typical 'romeo and juliet'-relationship long shot.


**WARNING: Yaoi, as in, there is a lemon**  
**Shounen Ai, as in, there is love between two males**  
**Serious uke Bakura buisness. If you can't handle your favourite bishi being sexually harrased/And or forced into submission, please exit (Just saying :3) **  
**Somewhat crossdressing. Can't handle the wonderful fetish that IS crossdressing, exit again **  
**SERIOUS ROMANCE/WHINING/TEARS AND PAIN :3**  
**Sum41. Can't handle sum41, please exit since I used one of their songs. Woooosh  
long shot 22 pages.  
Major OOC for both Marik And Bakura. Sorry, but ... I can't help it.**

A/N: Okay, so I was asked to write this by one of my friends, and happily did it. Little did I know that It would end up being so long. But if you have the guts, you can go ahead and read it. Also, I don't live in japan, and I don't really know the exact laws there, so Honestly. The sentence I gave Marik is probably either too long or too short, but I really couldn't find anymore info about it. Damn you Wikipedia!...I don't know what to say. I'll probably remember something important as soon as I publish it. We'll see.

**I also want to say: Flamers due to Bakura's incredibly weak personality is A-OKAY WITH ME. **Angry fangirls are always amusing...Okay, I think that's it!

* * *

_I don't want this moment to ever end  
Where everything's nothing without you _

A heated, passionate kiss landed on Bakura's neck, the lips travelling down his shoulders and chest. When they finally reached their desired destination, their victim cried out, clutching a fistful of silken bed sheets. Bakura panted, raising his arms, and wrapped them around the body looming above him. His grip tightened as a burning heat entered him, making him whine and whimper hopelessly. A pair of hands began roaming all over his back, affectionate, and comforting as Bakura lost his focus, allowing a single tear to fall, in doubt.

_I'll wait here forever just to, to see you smile  
'Cause it's true, I am nothing without you _

He listened to the sweet, loving nonsense from his lover, grasping golden strands of hair tightly. Then, he felt those soft lips on his skin again, this time letting them trail up his collar bone, placing tender kisses every now and then. Tan fingers came to whipe off the few silver tears that were left unshed in the corner of Bakura's brown eyes, the owner giving his mouth a light, gentle kiss. He hastily returned it, choking on his own breath as he willingly submitted to him. But in the back of his mind, something was making him stir, doubt, that everything would turn out okay like it always did.

Prison. Locked away.

When he thought about it like that, it only made Bakura hold tighter, not wanting to let go, ever again. He clamped a hand over his mouth, desperately begging for mercy, forgiveness and attention from the one growling on top of him. Gasping, Bakura let himself go, throwing his head back and arched his bad into the pillows.

"Marik!" He cried in bliss, leaving his body to be handled, and found himself on top of his lover. Trembling, sobbing and whimpering, he kissed his way up a tan chest, wrapping his arms around it.

"I know. I know, I know..." Came a low mumble, as the egyptian began kissing his hair, tugging him closer, possesively. Bakura shuddered, kneading the tan arms beneath his fingers.

"What if it all goes wrong, what if you-" He began.

"Bakura, 'what if, what if'- What if nothing happens?...I know it's going to turn out alright." Countered the other yami, eyes turning to the ceiling.

"Really?"

"Yes, everything will be alright like it always is."

With a look of obvious doubt, Bakura gave his lover a kiss, cupping the egyptians face and eyed him down for a moment.

"Do you promise?"

"I promise."

Sighing in defeat, the whitehaired yami let himself relax in the strong arms that came to wrap around him. His breath was ragged and unstable from crying, but the comforting strokes and petting helped a bit, calming him down, till his eyes slid closed. Afraid of going to sleep, he remained concious, even when he heard a faint breathing and saw the egyptian was out. Then, after a while, his fingers traced along his face, savouring the feeling.

"You can't leave me..." He said quietly, finally allowing himself to let the night take him in.

_Through it all, I made my mistakes _

Bakura clenched his fists under the table, attempting to stay quiet as he watched in anticapation. Next to him sat the, slightly more sweet looking version of himself, fiddling with a handkerchief. And on his other side, with his arms crossed over, sat the nicer of the Ishtars, glaring murderously at his soroundings. He wasn't sure if the three of them were thinking the same, but he knew they were when Marik had entered the room, making all those people who had nothing to do with him, turn their heads curiously towards him. It had hurt terribly, to see him walking in like that, with his gaze forwarded the jugde, hands restricted by metal handcuffs, and his back covered by officers.

Even Yami, the former pharaoh, who made it a passion to hate the tomb keeper and thief, looked somewhat disapointed when he saw him. Yugi, who didn't know how to react, just kept a low profile. And then, when Bakura noticed the other yami seating himself, his heart skipped a beat, painfully. It had felt it was in his throat, as he waited, deffinetly not sure what to say, or expect.

_I stumble and fall, but I mean these words _

He tensed, knuckles growing white and cold when the higher power were asking **his **Marik about stuff, that Bakura knew inside the egyptian would never do. They simply couldn't keep ignoring his answers, they just couldn't, when it wasn't his fault.

Only being able to hear some of what they shot back and forth in the room, Bakura tried focusing on the jugde. He drew in shallow, short breaths, squeezing the pale hand that covered his own moments after. Murder. Murder. That wasn't Marik. He'd shown his worst sides to Bakura only, no one else, but he wasn't a murderer. But here they were, all 6 of them, waiting for the possible conviction.

"Do you declare yourself innocent in the murder of-"

Bakura shut out all hearing and thought of something else, denying the fact that they were accusing him. Marik would never take sides with the murderer of a girl he didn't even know, why would he? It had been a coincedence, just a stupid coincedence. Because he was at the wrong place, at the wrong time.

"I didn't kill her." Came the known voice of the other yami, bringing Bakura back to the court room.

"But our main suspect is saying that you helped him? Is that true?"

Again, Bakura shut it all out, only to be woken up again by Marik's voice.

"No. I don't have any relation to the man, nor did I kill, or assist the murder."

"Then why would he say such a thing ? I'd be very pleased if you could inform us all."

"He's probably carrying a grugde."

At that, his throat was already burning, seeing Marik that way. Speaking in such a weird manner, keeping his posture and giving in to what they said.

"Carrying a grugde? Why would a man carrying a grugde on a friend accuse said friend for helping with murder?"

"I don't know. Have you checked his head first, he didn't seem quite normal to me."

Bakura mentally swore. It was the typical retort one would get if Marik was to be bothered by something.

"Do you even have an explanation?"

"The guy insulted my lover."

"Isn't that a bit immature for a grown man?"

"Do you love your wife?"

And on that cue, he'd managed to stir up the jugde. Bakura wanted to make Marik shut up, just shut up and explain what happened.

"Quiet! What does a simple remark have to do to with all this then?"

"You see. I don't take shit from nobody, and he called my lover a stupid whore if I remember correctly. He had been dancing with the murder victim earlier that night by the way. I went outside, spotted his car and trashed the front lights. When I came back to join my lover inside, the guy was already gone."

"So are you trying to say that because you broke something on his car...He is trying to blame you for murder. To me it seems rather thin ."

"The truth sounds thin to you?"

Bakura dug his nails into his palms, leaving small, crecent marks in the skin. He hadn't seen Marik leaving from the club that night, but he remembered him coming back. He just knew it couldn't have been the egyptian.

"To me it sounds mostly like you helped him."

"Why would I lie about trashing the bastards headlights!"

"It's a very bad alibi then "

"I'm not fucking lying!"

"QUIET!"

That was the last chance Marik had to protect himself before it was decided. Bakura held his breath, pressing his hikari's fingers till it hurt.

"Alright, this case is closed, it's simply too stupid to be working with. , it would be best if you just confessed."

"BUT I DIDN'T FUCKING HELP HIM!"

At this, Bakura couldn't help it anymore. Throwing the hand out of his own, he stood up, desperately meeting the purple eyes in front of him.

"Marik please!"

Caught off guard by the comment, the egyptian stared, somewhat shocked at him.

"If the audience would please sit down and stay calm, I will contiue."

Taking in a deep breath, Bakura did as told, looking at Marik.

"You don't have an actual alibi, and there are several DNA tissues found on the victim, including yours ."

"I knocked into her! It's a nightclub, what did you expect." Marik growled lowly, looking off when he too was coming to a conclusion of what was were to happen.

"Again. I declare this case closed, the alibi is simply too shallow. And I convict you, , to 3 years of prison for assisting murder."

At that moment, Bakura wasn't sure if his throat could burn more than it did, nor did he think his eyes could water more. Putting on an indifferent expression Marik looked at him, setting his jaw.

"Unconditional."

Hearing it said so easily, as if it had no consequences to Marik or anyone else, Bakura croaked, trying to surpress a sob. The tan hikari at his side put a hand on his knee, clenching his fist.

"Don't worry Kura." He whispered, gritting his teeth. They all knew their somewhat, psychotic friend was innocent, in this situation, but there was nothing they could do. they also knew the one who'd hit the hardest was the paler yami.

"Marik..."

As he was taken out of his place, handcuffs still on, Marik send Bakura a look. He hadn't meant to lie to him like that, he just never thought it would go so wrong so fast. The two officers who'd kept eye on the whole trial, now began leading the egyptian down trough the crowd.

_I want you to know  
With everything I won't let this go, these words are my heart and soul _

When he passed the whitehaired yami that was still trying to keep a stern expression, he mouthed 'I love you' slowly. Bakura caught it immediatly, and was about to get up and cling to the egyptian, but his hikari held him back. He wasn't even sure what he felt except for, complete, and utter defeat as he watched his lover being escorted out of the hall.

_I'll hold on to this moment you know, 'cause I'd bleed my heart out to show  
And I won't let go _

They sauntered, determined to the parking lot, Bakura being the last in the group, with his head hung low. Again, his breath had already become ragged and he tried his best not to let any sound escape. When Yami turned to him, asking if he was okay, the only answer he'd gotten was a light shake on the head. He sighed, readying for the trip home, although without the last member of the group.

The whole ride back, the only thing Bakura did was stare out tinted windows, doing his hardest to ignore his stomach twisting itself into knots, and his heart aching in his throat. He shuddered, inwardly and pretended that he understood it all. But he didn't. Marik was telling the truth, he'd never done anything to seperate them. In the end, it all became too much for the yami, and Bakura broke into hysterical sobs, slamming one fist against the window, using the other to wrap around his stomach.

Also upset like he, came the smaller hikari to quieten him, trying to make their eyes meet but nothing seemed to help. Bakura screamed, clutching his arms tight and shrieked till his throat felt like it was scratched open. Without success, the smaller male tried to comfort him, but everytime he did, his yami swiped after him. In the front, the ex pharaoh rubbed his temples, with one hand as he raised his voice for a moment, saying something that only disturbed the whitehaired yami the more.

Malik, not knowing what to say or do, just ignored them, hoping it would pass if he waited long enough. He slowly thought that, waiting was the best they could do from now on.

Bakura cried, refusing to take any pity that they came up the rest of the way home. Then, when they finally returned, he was still sobbing and crying. By now, the yami's eyes were bloodshot, and there were long streaks of silver tears trailing down his cheeks. The 4 other males got out, his hikari being the first to ask if he would come out. But the yami shook his head, the sobs shaking him violently. Feeling his heart drop to his stomach, Ryou hugged him tight, wishing there was something to ease the saddened yami.

"C-come on Kura, we'll go inside now." He urged, trying to pull him out with him. Bakura growled angrily, resuming the tears. This time, Yami came to his side, giving a foreign frown.

"Please Bakura. I know you're...Angry." He began, knowing that he had to watch his choice of words around the thief. The egyptian interupted quickly.

"Yami, you should know him better, than to think he'll come out...Let me." Malik muttered in a dark manner, pushing past the smaller male. He reached in, laying his arm around Bakura. In respons, the thief wailed, dumping his head on the tan shoulder. Then, after a moment, he allowed the egyptian to pull him out, and let him stand on his own feet. Malik looked at him and froze the yami in place. He suddenly felt, weak, and nausious.

"Come on yami..." Ryou said carefully, but failed to hide the sadness in his voice. Before any of them could react, Bakura collapsed in a heap on the ground, scraping a hole trough his jeans and palms, only to cry some more. They glanced at him, in despair of what to do about it. Malik sighed softly, leaning down and collected Bakura together again. He felt a pair of arms scrambling to reach around his back, and when he did, he hauled the whimpering yami up, over his shoulder. Yami shook his head, taking his hikaris hand in his and they went back inside, just as it began to rain softly.

_Thoughts read unspoken, forever in doubt  
Pieces of memories fall to the ground _

A few hours later, Bakura lay on his bed, curled into a ball with the sheets dragged over him halfway, thanks to Ryou who didn't want him to be cold. When the hikari had given it to him, he'd left, and made sure no one bothered the other male before he was ready to talk. Bakura fisted the white shirt in hands, bringing it to his face. He shuddered, surpressing his tears as he drew in a sharp breath, smelling it. It still had a faint scent of Marik, and just that single article, could stir everything up so badly. Whimpering softly, the yami slid a hand between his thighs, savouring the scent for a while.

As his eyes closed, he stiffled a moan, allowing himself clamp his legs together, adding pressure. He knew it was the wrong way to handle it, but he couldn't help it. They took his Marik away, like a child having their toys confiscated, just like that. The more he touched down there, the more he missed the egyptians fingers and feel on his skin. And the more he missed him, the more his chest hurt, with a twisting, turning pain like some one drove a knife in there.

Bakura began removing his clothes, mimicing just how the egyptian did so often. His fingers came to a halt, letting one digit slide beneath beneath his panties, to tug them down his hips. He'd gotten used to it, since he wore them all the time. He remembered being sceptical to the yamis suggestion, not seeing how he'd ever find it comfortable, but then, Marik pleaded, so annoyingly like he always did, and Bakura did it. Recalling the very first time, where the choice of undergarments, had been a black thong, that said egyptian **allowed **him to cover up with jeans, he scowled.

The yami stopped, snuggling into the covers, leaving his panties around his ankles and the shirt under his cheek. He tried to relax, and fall asleep, but nothing worked. Everytime he did, his mind kept coming back to the egyptian, kissing him, nuzzling and touching him so lovingly. A single tear rolled down his cheek, landing silently on the bed, as he thought back of everytime he'd shared it with Marik. And how he always made sure to obbey his every wish.

Swallowing hard, Bakura looked towards the window, wanting to be in his arms. Not necasarily because they would make love, as he'd so nicely put it, but because he enjoyed the warmth. When he would sit alone in the living room, Marik would always come home and join him, bringing him into his lap. He never knew wether it would lead to another thing, or not. Also, there were a few times a year, where the hikaris would drag them outside, for reasons unknown. They'd happily bolt around in the snow, throwing it at each other and stuff it down their clothes. How they found it amusing was a mystery to the three yami's, but during the time they waited, Bakura constantly tended to get cold, as to the point where he'd start whining for attention. Where Yami would shrug it off, the egyptian tugged him to his chest and warmed him up till he would look up and smile.

Marik was caring too. It would only take a few rants, and a pout, till the yami would return with whatever he desired.

He soon recalled the last birthday, that he and his hikari shared. Marik had, with a purr, handed him a bottle of vodka, asking if he'd consider getting stoned with him. He remembered laughing, but saying yes anyway...

Bakura pressed his head into a pillow, ignoring how sore his throat was. Then, he remembered being wrapped in a pair of strong arms, as he fell for the darkness.

_I know what I didn't have so, I won't let this go  
'Cause it's true, I am nothing without you _

A week later, Bakura found himself heading trough a hall, with grey cement walls and a guard at each end. When he came to one of them, he held up a piece of paper, getting an obligatory smile, and a nod, as the door opened for him. Behind it was a smaller room, and three tables somewhat seperating the space. One of the guards noticed the distant look on the yami's face, and asked if he needed help. He shook his head, setting himself on a chair at one of the tables, instantly burrying his fingers in his hair as he wondered if he could take it. He was soon joined by two females, each of them setting themselves at a table like he did. Except those two looked like they weren't worried.

Then a few moments after, another door went up, and in came two males, both of them looking rather ruffed up. Behind them, sauntered a tan male, wearing the same genuine smirk as he always did. Seeing the other yami, he smiled awkwardly, not finding anything to be happy about. Nevertheless, let himself be escorted by a guard, over to Bakura and he sat down, glaring at the third part for him to leave them alone. The first thing the smaller male did was fiddle with his fingers, looking at Marik's wrists, that were handcuffed like last time he saw him. His lips parted, letting out a small whimper.

"Are you alright?" He asked, covering the egyptians hands with his own.

"I'm fine Kura..." Was his answer, assuring to the yami's ears.

"No one hurt you?"

"They saw my tatoo and apparently thought it was cool. I'm fine. I swear." Marik said, shifting, and stroked the pale, slender fingers on top of his. Everything the whitehaired yami had prepared to say and ask was suddenly gone, in less than a second, and he was left speechless, staring at the egyptian.

"How are you?"

"I miss you."

"Hm...I'll be back before you know it."

Bakura looked up, feeling that his heart damn near broke.

"Marik I had enough trouble going trough seven days, what do you expect me to do."

"What do you expect **me** to do! I'm stuck here, because they refuse to search for more evidence." The other yami muttered bitterly.

"I'm sorry. I just feel like I've lost you and that'll never be the same again!" Came the short, croaked respons. Biting his bottom lip a tad too nervously, Marik reached over the table seperating them, and cupped the yami's face gently.

"Listen to me. I **don't **want you to worry about me. Please." He whispered, letting go, before any one could accuse him of trying to sufforcate his own lover.

"I can't just do that."

"Try."

Bakura's eyes watered up even more, leaving an unshed, thin line of tears in the corner. The egyptian swallowed hard, being painfully of the fact that he couldn't do a thing to prevent Bakura's obvious sadness.

"You look nice today." He announced, watching him close his eyes, and shake his head numbly.

"Shut up. Please shut up Marik."

"But you do. And I want to compliment you when I feel like it."

"Just drop it, won't you!"

The male and female to their right, shot the two yami's a dirty look, both of them growling.

"I won't drop it. I'm allowed to you call you beautiful aren't I."

"Not now."

"Why not. I've missed you too, you know"

"I just can't cope with it right now okay!"

Bakura shuddered, raking his fingers over the egyptians hands.

"Imagine..If I could legally tear your clothes off right now..."

At this, the pale yami's face turned crimson. Despite the time he'd said it, he found himself growling back.

"I'm not in the mood."

"Heh...You're always in the mood."

Blushing, Bakura looked off, feeling like he wasn't saying that in public, and that it was just taken right out of the bedroom.

"I'd feel alot better if I could hear what you're wearing underneath all those clothes Kura."

"Marik, come on."

"Please? I bet it's something terribly sexy."

"No!"

Suddenly, a new, gruff and irritated voice shot in loudly, shocking the paler yami.

"Hey Marik! why don't you make that weeping friend of yours shut up, before I do!" The male at the right spat, sending said friend a murderous glare. In respons, Marik snarled.

"Stay the fuck out of this!" He yelled, silencing himself when the guards saw a possible arguement coming up and cleared their throats.

"Marik you shouldn't have said that." Bakura whispered quietly.

"It doesn't matter."

"It does to me."

The egyptian sighed, trying to bring a smirk to his face, so that the yami would have some sort of comfort, if he just got the impression that he wasn't mad.

"I'd still like to know what you're hiding under there."

"Why are you making it sound like you've never seen me before."

"Because I feel like it's been forever since we last did it."

"Would you keep it down!"

Rubbing his eyes absently, Bakura looked back at him.

"I'm merely stating a fact. We've gone for longer than a week several times, but I really can't fucking stand not being with you."

"Marik, I can't talk about this here."

"Then where? I can't just walk out that door with you."

"I just don't want to hear it!"

"Don't you care about wether I miss you or not!"

"Of course I do! But I'm going insane already!"

Again, they were interupted.

"Marik-Shut that stupid piece of shit up!"

This only seemed to upset both yami's even more, Marik going for fight, and Bakura flight, to escape any confrontation with that human.

"You shut up!"

"Marik come on!"

Growing a bit hysterical, Bakura grabbed the egyptians wrist seeing he was about to get up. Then, as if they wouldn't even bother watching the whole scene, one of the guards came and put a hand on the pale yami's shoulder. He quickly realized what that meant.

"We can't have these small outbursts all the time , I am going to escort your guest out now."

Before the hand touching him could take him away, Bakura got up, reaching in and threw his arms around the tan yami, crying out in despair. He tightened his grip as he felt the guard trying to peel him off, rather roughly. All Marik could do was sit still and watch it unfold, wanting to take Bakura away from them, and protect him by himself.

"Bakura just let go..." He whispered, barely audible. In respons, the yami shook his head violently, screaming as another tug came in him. Then finally, the guard managed to singlehanded wrench Bakura out of his grasp, and hastily began following him back, trough the door and down that long, scary hall. Bakura soon realized he didn't even get to say goodbye.

_All the streets where I walked alone, with nowhere to go  
I've come to an end _

Glancing out the window, where rain pelted the glass due to an upcoming storm, Bakura shifted in his seat on the couch slightly. The weather was horrible, like his mood had been for ages. Since the first time he'd visited his lover, months had passed. Almost six of them, he thought. Apparently, they had forbidden him to come, because of the way he acted. Said he was mentally unstable and couldn't function well around others. It made the yami sick to his stomach, how others had begun jumping to drastic conclusions like that, so fast.

Bakura tugged the red blanket over his legs, sighing. Then, after a moment, right on time, his hikari entered the living room, greeting him happily. But he didn't feel like returning the gesture. Ryou padded further into the room, carefully, looking towards his yami. His hair was like it always was, wild and untamed, but something seemed different about it. So did the rest of his body, he'd noticed that only a couple of months earlier. He figured that Bakura starved himself, as some sort of punishment. However, the thing that pained him the most, were Bakura's eyes. They were dull, dark, and broken. Lifeless. Like he'd given up on all hope. He wore a constant frown, matching the low grunts and groans one would get in answer, whenever he was asked something.

After a moment, Ryou began approaching him, and kneeled down in front of him.

"Kura?..." He held out a plain cupcake, with a white candle, burning bright on top. The yami didn't even glance, and kept his face turned to the window.

"Please yami." Ryou pleaded, voice filled with sorrow, from seeing Bakura like that. He was withering away, little by little. A hand reached out, fingers snatching the cupcake from Ryou. The owner quickly blew out the candle, setting the treat back on the coffee table in front of them. When he finished, Bakura sat snugly back in the couch.

"I don't feel like celebrating anything."

"We were about to go out eating. Are you sure you want to be here? I'll stay if you'd like."

"Just go."

Sighing deeply, the hikari gave up, and stood on his feet again. He gave Bakura one last look before leaving, shaking his head. The minuttes passed, and the yami had his eyes rested on the window, waiting for night to come so he could sleep. When he slept he felt at somewhat peace. Except the times he'd think of a certain egyptian right before going to bed, it always resulted in dreaming of him. And when he would wake up, there were no warmth except for his own, no soft breath on his neck, no nothing. Only himself.

_I want you to know  
With everything I won't let this go, these words are my heart and soul _

When the darkness had swallowed all light in the house, a curious, tiny figure appeared in the door frame. Bakura was aware of it's presence, and silently waited till he heard a diappointed, attention needed mewl. Then, a furry, happy being jumped up, next to his side, and padded it's way into his lap. Mittens. He'd named her that. He didn't know why he would ever choose a title for a fluffy hairball like her, but he did. She looked like a Mittens.

His hand drifted across her grey, soft back, listening to a light purring. Soon enough, the two of them sat quietly, enjoying the company. He briefly considered if Mittens was smart enough to have noticed Marik's absence. Of course she did...

He fed her when he was too lazy to do so. He combed her fur when he was too lazy. He even let her sleep in his lap. It made Bakura doubt if he did it willingly at times. Mittens threw hairs everywhere, on their clothes and on the furniture, but Marik shrugged it off and took care of her like himself. He'd told Bakura it was because cats were sacred creatures, ones that were soppused to be pampered and worshipped like gods. Even if it meant getting up at 4 am to let out said god on a bathroom break. But the egyptian would always reason him and say he didn't mind. Surprisingly...

"_You know...Sometimes it could be awesome if time stood still. You here, in my lap, and her in yours...My two lovely kittens."_

Bakura frowned, curling together. What he wouldn't give to hear one of those comments again. They were always intended to sound so careless and spontanious, but he knew that Marik somewhere along the way meant it...

_I'll hold on to this moment you know, 'cause I'd bleed my heart out to show  
And I won't let go _

Weekdays were the worst.

It usually meant being alone till 4 or 5 in the afternoon. The three hikaris were busy with either school or sparetime jobs, and Yami was working at the museum. Leaving Bakura alone. At first, Ryou had been worried when he left home, knowing the yami wouldn't leave his bed if he didn't want to. But he always told him to leave and have fun if he wanted to. However, he coulndn't help but feel guilty when he took off in the mornings.

Bakura would at times get up and eat when he felt motivated enough to take care of himself, and at other occasions, he would merely stay in bed, waiting for some one to come home. He'd stopped talking, only using actual words and sentences when it was necasary. Only a rare grunt or huff were the only answers they would get lately. Even when he took his antidepressants, he couldn't be bothered to speak. There was no need, and no one begged him, so he just … Stopped.

The pills were Ryou's idea. He'd rejected the idea at first, because he was told they would 'make him less moody'. If pills could make him forget, he wouldn't take them. He had to feel like that, to know that he was alive, and hurt. Sometimes, Yami would try shaking him out of his trance, by telling him to wake up and think of something else than Marik. Of course, he did it without sucess. Bakura downright refused to listen.

In the end, Ryou's guilt had gotten the best of him, and he pleaded the yami to please, please try and eat something, or at least speak to them. Bakura had shaken his head. They couldn't press words out his mouth, so they gave up. Till even Yami questioned the paler spirits sanity. So, after much failed negotiations, he was taken by surprise and pinned down, only to have something distasteful shoved into his mouth.

Then, after having experienced that, Bakura had to take them willingly. Ryou had thought that sending him somewhere distant and cold would be the last resort, but it turned out better than expected. Even though he hated knowing that the only reason Bakura didn't stay in his room all day was the medication.

Bakura typically spend the day in the living room, staring out the windows, or trying to watch tv, though he was never focused on anything for long. He would usually just fall asleep, and wait till the first to come home would wake him up.

_In front of your eyes, it falls from the skies  
When you don't know what you're looking to find _

At christmas, they were gathered in their little group again. For an event. An event that Bakura used to find interesting, or fun, mostly because of the fact that he would be given gifts of various sizes and shapes, unconditionally. This time was dull, boring and...Missed something. They all knew what it missed, but no one dared to mention what it was.

He sat at his seat, arms crossed, having refused to eat, therefore settled them on the empty plate. The others were trying to engage a conversation with the yami, but failed terribly everytime. It was as if he didn't even belong in his own awkward family anymore. He felt out of place, somehow ending up at the couch, and laid sprawled across it. He watched them again, having fun and laughing, as if they were neglecting the fact that he was like he was. Couldn't they see nothing was like it was soppused to? Or did they ignore it.

He found it hard to put on a somewhat gentle expression when his hikari snuggled up to him, having been used to the lonliness for too long. They stayed like that for a while, though Bakura never returned the embrace.

_In front of your eyes, it falls from the skies  
When you just never know what you will find _

Bakura tugged his coat up, covering his collar bone. The cold was nipping at his skin, and the time of night was only making it feel worse. His hikari had gotten his will, having forced him into the night for some fresh air. He noted mentally that his boots were soaked by the snow, but shrugged it off.

Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he could mentally picture a certain egyptian walking next to him, leaving marks in the virgin layer beneath his feet with him.. And somewhere...He imagened him laying an arm around his shoulder, whispering something. Bakura stopped briefly, consulting his feet if they wanted to walk anymore. He looked into the sky, gazing at the stars. That was the only comfort winter could give him. A clear, blue sky.

Unaware, the yami contiued his journey to the sanctuary of home, passing the entrance to an alley. He heard a taunting, gruff voice coming from the darkness. Before thinking about his actions, Bakura stopped, whipping around, already upset by the comment that he hadn't even heard proberbly.

"Hey sweetcheeks, come on over here." The person taunted again, making him narrow his eyes. A man soon stumbled out, nearly toppling over in the snow, but managed to keep himself standing. Bakura eyed him up, noticing that he had one hand hidden inside his jacket. He didn't move, even when the man came right up and stood at his side, towering over him. He was at least a foot taller than the yami, and twice his size.

"What's the matter, you afraid or something."

"What do you want." Bakura said, surprised to hear his own voice for once...

The man approached him, studying him curiously.

"I've seen you before." A lazy grin appeared on his face, giving the smaller male shivers. His eyes were clouding over, in a creepy sort of way and his breath reeked an awfully lot like booze.

"Perhaps." He murmered in respons, trying to sneak under one arm having blocked his escape route, but the man wouldn't bugde.

"I'm sure I've seen your face somewhere around." He said quietly.

"Well great, get the fuck out of my face and stop talking to strangers."

Bakura was about to run off, but soon found himself forced against the cold wall. His cheek and palms raked on the bricks, cutting both up slightly. A hand pressed on the back of his head, pinning him to the wall.

"Wait a second. I'm really sure..." The man repeated.

"I don't know where you've seen me, just get the hell off of me!"

His breath hitched. This wouldn't have happened if he'd been with Marik, he was certain of it. If Marik had been there, he woulnd't even have needed that walk.

"I think I know now. You're that angry underage kid with a murderer as a best friend right. Where is he by the way, never seen you without that accesory?"

Ignoring the stinging pain in his face, Bakura swallowed hard and shook his head.

"I don't know. And I'm **not** underage." He answered quietly, keeping threatening tears at bay. The hand on him let go, withdrawing slowly. Hestantly, the yami began turning around. He was just about to leave when he felt the hand slide down his shoulders, curiously. Testing. As if he was merely playing around. It gradually travelled lower, till it stopped at his rear. Bakura braced himself against the wall this time, feeling like he was going to throw up, every second that it closed in on him.

He was slowly growing more and more hysterical, but his apperance said otherwise. Inside, he was fighting with himself to rip lose and run for it. It appeared as if, without the egyptian at his side, Bakura was progessively turning into a miserable, useless shell. Nothing could cheer him up anymore. Nothing could upset him anymore. If there was just a way to get out of it. Two fingers slid between his legs from under his coat, gently prying them apart. That was enough to stir him for once. The gesture wasn't painful, nor did it feel foreign, but it felt horribly wrong.

Then, in a moment of sheer panic, the yami managed to break free when he caught the other male off guard. He got into a safe area, and stared wide eyed at the man. He faced the yami, looking curious.

"THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING!" Bakura shrieked, backing away. He shook his head violently, not giving the man time to answer before he bolted off, leaping over the fence behind them. He landed with a thud on the other side and whipped his head around to glance at the larger male. His ankles and hurt wrists hurt from the impact. It had been a long time since he'd gotten out.

"Oi, no need to get scared sweetie! I wasn't trying to hurt you, you know." He yelled, already starting to walk off, seeing nowhere to get around a 9 feet fence. Bakura rose from the snowy, wet pavement and swallowed hard.

"I was just going to show you a good time! You looked so moody!"

The yami didn't waste time in listening to the drunk. Bakura set off in a run, several times being close to slipping on the icy surface. He wasn't even graceful anymore. He was falling apart, little by little. He made sure to return home through his bedroom window, and change before finally joining the already sleeping housemates...That night, Bakura cried yet again. Even worthless strangers were winning over him by now, without the egyptian he needed so much.

_I don't want this moment to ever end  
Where everythings nothing without you_

Bakura padded through the living room, whiping off his face with the back of his hand. He sniffled, and involuntarily yawned, and went to the kitchen table, picking up the packet of pills. Snapping one out, he went to get something to drink, knowing he needed fluids to go with it. After looking at the clock that told him it was past 9 in the morning, he stared out the window, rolling the white pill between his fingers.

When he swallowed it, he leaned against the counter for a moment, waiting for its effect. Honestly, he never thought they worked, but it was better than having to argue the whole day long. He couldn't handle it. However, it did sometimes ease the pressure on his chest, and make his head hurt less. The grass outside was starting to turn green again with the time. It seemed everything was going at least one bit faster than he, always. Nothing could wait for him. Not even Marik's things. Yami had taken those, and 'handled' them, he said. Bakura knew they were somewhere in either his room, or the cellar. They'd told him that it would help him move on till it wasn't needed anymore. He hated how they thought they knew what he needed, and what he didn't. He needed **Marik.** No less, no more. **Him**.

They kept taking the remaining parts of Marik away from him. Confiscating it almost, like the egyptian had been from him. At least, they couldn't rid him of his own thoughts.

His sanity, wasn't as well as it could've been however. And without warning, his eyes watered on time. His fingers began trembling, along with the rest of his body. He gagged, and felt his knees give away under him, as he collapsed on the floor.

When some one had finally come home, the yami was still passed out, sprawled in a heap on the kitchen tiles. He couldn't remember who helped him, but whoever it was, they asked him if he was drunk, then led him up the stairs and into his bed.

In the end, his blackouts were repeating, coming in longer and more unpredictable doses. Ryou had begged and plead for Yami to look after him, asking if he could find out what made them so regular during time. Bakura had of course, observed the two talking. The first thing he'd mentioned was depression. Ryou had agreed to that, oblivious to the yami's pressence. Then, after much negotiation, Yami finally said yes, and had to call in sick at work. Even he, didn't want the paler yami to be send off, even if it could be the last resort. They had tried taking his pills, and seeing if he could go without them. That gave the exact opposite of what they wanted. Bakura would cry, sometimes for minuttes, sometimes for hours, and sit in his room, without any intensions of leaving it. It was even worse than when he had to have his first row of medication... Ryou was already at the point where he thought there were no other choice left.

_I want you to know _

His eyes darted around nervously, as he chewed his lip. Bakura looked out the window, drawing his knees to his chest. They were flickering all over the room, without himself being aware of it at all. The yami let his head fall back, breathing in deeply. When he was alone, he was always able to feel Marik. Somehow, it made him relaxed, and somehow it made him even more upset. If he focused, he could recall the feeling of a palm running up his chest, along his collar bone...And down his sides...For the first time ever since Yami took away his things, Bakura found himself getting just a bit excited. Not necasarily pure lust, but there was something in there...He blamed the location, the weather, his mood...Everything, that made him like that. Hesitating, the yami drew a finger under his shirt, lifting it slightly...

Then he heard something hollow and utterly disturbing. A hand, knocking on the door. Being ripped out of his thoughts like that by some one who didn't know of his state, angered him. Not a bit, but alot. Bakura's eyes grew dark and sinister during seconds, as he yanked his shirt back, stalking loudly through the hall and with everything he mustered, screamed at the top of his lungs as he ripped the door open.

"GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME AND LEAVE ME ALONE!"

The one in front of him didn't look afraid, nor shocked or surprised. Just calm. Bakura briefly questioned his own sanity for less than a second, before letting his mouth fall open. Unknowingly, he was already trembling terribly. His eyes were quickly filled with tears, from something he couldn't explain.

Then, after a moment of silence, the stranger smirked. A wellknown, trademark smirk, that made the owners purple orbs gleam crazily.

"Afternoon Bakura. Can I come in?" He asked softly. Without being able to speak, or even respond, the pale yami threw himself at him, arms tightening around him in a vice like grip, till it hurt the other male.

"**Marik!**" Came the croaked answer after a while, as he clung to the egyptian. A gentle hand stroked his hair, and he immediatly returned the caress, nuzzling against his chest, mewling and whimpering hopelessly. His fingers scrambled to get a hold of the black shirt beneath the tips, desperately gripping it with no thoughts of letting go. The hand buried deep within his hair tightened, bringing him closer and locking him in place.

"Yeah?" He answered after leaning against the door frame, and holding the other yami for a short while.

"Don't be so casual!" He suddenly cried, pushing away from the egyptian. He stared at him, fingers twitching, aching to touch him again, but he couldn't.

"What?"

Bakura shook his head, sending the white mass of hair in all directions.

"Not like that! I missed you! And all you do is make a sarcastic comment!" He shot out, letting his arms hang down his sides as he finally gave up and looked away from him. A hand gently stroked his cheek, and he pressed against it, closing his eyes. Together, the two of them backed inside, closing off the rest of the world when they shut the door. The first thing Marik did was pin the paler yami to it, and hug him tightly. Bakura, for the first time, ever...Felt the egyptian tremble against him.

"Don't say that, please don't!...Of course I missed you." He croaked, fighting his own tears, and burying his face in the crook of Bakura's neck.

"Then why..."

"Because I didn't know what to say. I had prepared so much for this moment, and now I'm completely speechless."

"But, you could've at least told me!"

"I wanted it to be a surprise!"

Bakura whimpered smelling the golden locks, shivering from the familiar scent. He wasn't even foreign to him.

"You should've told me. You should..."

"I know. I know." Marik pulled away, eyes darting around the paler yami. He knew they both looked pathetic, though it didn't matter to either of them.

Bakura looked at the egyptian, carefully studying his face. Over his left eyebrow was a hairthick, short scar, and his lupper lip was bruised, just a bit. His hair looked the same, and had surprisingly remained golden and soft, like it had always been. His eyes drifted down Marik. He was even wearing the same as the day they'd last seen each other. He glanced back up, noticing that tiny, line of tears in his eyes.

"You know what." Marik smiled weakly, putting his hand on the back of Bakura's head, pressing their foreheads together.

"Hn."

"About a month ago, the guards had gotten tired of me. Told me I kept nagging about the case. So you know what they did...They actually got off their asses, and called a few people. Turns out, I was innocent like I said."

Bakura's heart skipped a beat. His fist clenched, just before the egyptian hushed him.

"They kept me the last month because of vandalism to their suspects car."

"Really?"

"Yes. And now, I only have two things in my mind right now after getting out."

The smaller yami sobbed, pulling himself closer.

"Y-yeah?"

"First, I want something to eat." Marik leant down, breathing in deeply. Then, carefully removing the white hair, he allowed his lips to ghost across Bakura's neck. He stilled, hearing a quiet whimper, but contiued when Bakura nodded numbly.

"And then...When I've had my treat-" He licked up the pale skin, hungrily leaving a wet trail on it. Bakura shivered, slowly closing his eyes. The toungue went up, and Marik began nibbling on his ear.

"-I want to see you naked, for as long as I want."

Wrapping his arms around the larger males waist, Bakura nodded eagerly, pulling in the black shirt, between his teeth.

"They gave me compensation for the unnecasary time. We could sue them." The egyptian murmered, suckling the others neck.

"Shut up, won't you. We can talk about this tomorrow."

"I guess you're right."

Marik held his breath, harshly bringing their lips together again, renewing the burning desire.

"How were you? I feel so bad for leaving you like this and Ryou got me medication so I wouldn't keep st-"

"Ssshhh..." He silenced the yami with a soft kiss. "You know how I sometimes told you about time standing still. It did. For a long time."

"But...Are you alright?"

"Hmmm, stop talking."

Bakura groaned, feeling his knees give away in the end and they slid down the wall together, twining their fingers. Despite both of the yamis had so much to say, but neither could even begin to explain. So they contiued like they'd always done. Touching instead of communicating.

The egyptian let his hands roam the other yami for a while, sliding up his shirt, and left a couple of marks on his way down his pale collar bone. Bakura noticed the journey progressing, south, and twitched nervously as he felt his jeans being undone. Carefully, Marik began trying to peel them off him, but looked up, questiongly, when the yami silently protested by clamping his knees around him. Something prevented him from going with the flow, and have sex with the egyptian on the floor, right there. It wouldn't be the same.

Catching the hint, Marik left him, bringing the smaller male to his feet again, and pecked him on the lips.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it. Want me to tell you a few things?"

"Hmmmm...I'd like that."

_With everything I won't let this go, these words are my heart and soul  
I'll hold on to this moment you know, 'cause I'd bleed my heart out to show _

_And I won't let go _

_I want you to know_

Bakura whimpered hopelessly, arching into the pillows, feeling pinned down by a pair of intense, lilac eyes that hadn't left him for quite a while. He groaned, meeting the others lips eagerly, and opened his mouth to grant him access. His fingers dug into the tan upper arms he'd had a tight grip on, making the egyptian growl softly. He let his eyes dart around the room, somewhat grateful by the thin rays of moonlight that got through the curtains, lighting the two of them just slightly.

"You're beautiful."

"Shut up." The yami said sternly. Marik allowed his lips to gracefully trace down the others neck, nibbling a bit, playfully. He wrapped his fingers tightly around the yamis hips, surely intending to leave a mark, and positioned him. Bakura hesitantly put his arms onto the egyptians shoulders, parting his legs for him. A tan hand slid between them, caresing the soft skin. His eyes didn't leave him for a single second, as he reached over the nightstand, fixing a bottle of scented lubrication. The paler yami waited, curious about the next move. He somewhat expected Marik to go easy on him, though he couldn't bring himself to protest. It was so foreign, but yet so familiar and warm, to touch again, to feel and stroke and taste.

He watched him pour out a well amount into his palm, spreading it within his fingers and when he thought he was done, he repeated.

"You ready?" The egyptian asked lowly, watching the yami. The tension between them was already unbearable, and he couldn't recall ever being as damn hard as he was at that moment. All he wished to do was thrust into Bakura, take what was rightfully his, claim the yami and leave him breathless. That was what he thought he wanted...But honestly, Marik was too confused and scared to do so.

"I think so." Bakura answered after a while. The egyptian saw a few tears in the paler yamis eyes that he refused to shed. That was when he realized that Bakura was his to handle, like a fragile little doll. He was a trembling mess, but he'd never tell him that.

Without uttering a word, Marik circled a single, lubricated digit against Bakura's entrance, listening to the yami's soft grunts. Bakura arched, allowing the egyptian to push inside him. His eyes squeezed shut, involuntarily as he grimaced in a now, foreign pain. Marik waited, gently progressing, while his other hand caressed down Bakura's sides to ease his mind. He was unbeliably tight, and he knew it hurt, if only for a while. Bakura bit down a startled cry, clutching his bed sheets, sending a desperate glance at the other yami.

Marik gave him a little longer to adjust, before pushing in again, flinching when his lover gasped, shocked.

"I'm not used to this." Bakura said, his tone apologetic. The egyptian didn't say anything, but did his best at understanding and holding back. He felt the others legs wrap around him, and Bakura's whole body tightened against him, still preparing him for what pain he could inflict and made sure to occasionally coat his fingers anew. As much as he tried purring and mewling like he enjoyed it, Bakura was having a hard time even grasp that they were together again and stayed silent. Every now and then, he'd hiss, or whimper quietly, and when he did, the egyptian would try kissing the pain away.

After a while, Marik had three fingers working, driving them into the yami repeatedly and kept his motions fluid and steady. Bakura was by now, laying boneless beneath him, panting and writhing.

"We don't have to do this if you don't want to."

"I do. I do, there's nothing I want more than this right now." It came out somewhere between pleading, and demanding, if that was even possible. But it sounded like that to the egyptian.

He placed a kiss on the whimpering yamis lips, attempting to keep said yamis mind off his next move. Marik lifted Bakura's legs, settling between them properbly. This time, Bakura didn't protest or whine, he merely waited, taking a deep breath as the blond slowly, but firmly pushed inside him till he was completely seathed. Neither of them moved, and the only thing that was to be heard was their heavy breathing. Suddenly, Marik smirked.

"You're tight...And you're beautiful."

"Am I soppused to say that I 'saved myself for you'...?"

"Did you?"

"I'm not a cheating whore."

Catching the hint, Marik wrapped an arm around his lovers waist, pressing his forehead against the pale chest. He bucked his hips once, listening to the soft, startled sound Bakura gave when he did.

"I know that."

Marik did it again, just as gently, this time making the paler yamis toes curl, and his back arch like a bow.

"...You already called me beautiful once tonight, I think it's enough...Why do you keep saying it." Bakura said, holding his breath, and felt blood rising in his cheeks.

"Because it's true..." Marik began. "And because you... Are. My. Dirty. Sexy. Kitten." He muttered, matching every thrust he gave, occasionally putting in a bit more strength. Instead of snapping back, like he'd always done, Bakura stayed silent, not caring about the petname, and the fact that the egyptian claimed him, like he'd claim a trophy. He **wanted **to be left speechless, and the blond made sure to do just that. But before he could let the night end where he knew it would, he had something on his mind, he needed gone. He swallowed hard before asking, his heart mashing away as if he'd been having a heatstroke.

"Do you still love me?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Because I'm..." The paler started, grimacing in pain from a particular hard thrust, and heard the egyptian apoligize for being carried away. He sucked in his breath, trying to form a sentence. "I'm not like I used to. I cry more than a pregnant woman."

"Perhaps you are?"

Bakura waited a moment before answering, kissing the blonds tan upper arm that braced against him.

"I eat pills everyday."

"We can still change that."

"I don't leave my bed on bad days."

"I'll make sure to kick you out of it when I've screwed you thoroughly then."

The egyptian felt his lover still for a while, legs digging into his sides. Bakura let out a strangled moan.

"Half a year ago...I met this drunk, who said he knew who I was."

"I assume you didn't enjoy the company."

"I think he wanted to fuck me."

"Who doesn't?"

Honestly, Bakura had expected the blond to throw a flip and tell him to watch out for himself. So he wasn't sure what to respond...

"I want you to take care of yourself...I don't care who he was. Did he hurt you?"

"No, no bruises."

"Touch you then?"

"...I haven't had sex since you left"

Smirking, the egyptian closed his eyes, resting against the smaller yami.

"Great. Don't let anyone do this to you, ever. You belong to me, and I want to have this for me, only"

"Say it again."

"You belong to me."

"_**Again...**_"

"**You belong to me Bakura.**" Marik growled this time, spurred on by the paler yami trying to vocalize his moans, so desperately in his embrace as he fisted the sheets.

"Marik please! Oh-f-fuck, please!" He pleaded, writhing and squirming like a fish out of water, begging for the last few heated thrusts he knew he needed for his release. Marik obliged, whispering a few, senseless words to him, in what he assumed was english, giving him just that last push over the egde. He cried the blonds name, parting his lips in a long, pained moan in time with the searing hot rush that streamed through him, inside and out, like a burning tidal wave that made him feel like he was caught between heaven and hell. When he got his wonderful release, it caused every fibre and muscle in his body to contract, sending the egyptian with him into that delicious state where nothing made sense. Marik followed soon after, with a last, short buck into the pale yami. He growled out in release, head thrown back, in an animalistic behaviour like a feral predator as he came inside his lover, savouring the warmth for a moment.

Finally, he looked back, eyeing Bakura, who lay boneless, panting and exhausted under him. He leaned down, kissing him on the lips, carefully, like he'd break if he was being too rough. Taking in a long, deep breath, Bakura wrapped his arms around the egyptians shoulders, and pulled him closer.

_With everything I won't let this go, these words are my heart and soul  
I'll hold on to this moment you know, 'cause I'd bleed my heart out to show _

They lay like that for several minuttes, wrapped in each others embrace before Bakura whimpered softly.

"Can you...Let go of me for a moment." He whispered, and arched, his eyes rolling back as Marik did what he was told.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine.."

Sattisfied, the blond lay back down next to his lover, and let his arms encircle him once more, protectively. Bakura snuggled up to him, burying his face in the crook of his neck, taking in his scent.

"Let me sleep here tonight." He murmered. Clearly an order, that Marik wouldn't be one to deny him. He felt a pair of fingers tracing up his back, between his shoulderblades and back down, before returning again. Bakura shivered from the touch, but refused to say anything.

"Do you think I would've let you walk away now?" Marik commented quietly, annoyed by the fact that he was just as exhausted as the paler yami looked.

"I don't think so." Came the sleepy respons as he watched Bakura allowing himself to close his eyes slowly. Then, sitting up to retrieve the discarded blankets, he tried ignoring the low whine Bakura gave when he noticed the blonds absence. He hurriedly pulled the covers over the two of them, and felt the yami cling to him again almost immediatly.

Unable to sleep, Marik stayed awake, watching over Bakura to make sure he was getting his needed rest. Every now and then, the yami would shift slightly in his arms, but he never rolled off him or tried to get away, despite the fact that he was feeling feverish to the egyptian. There were a few times when Bakura's lips would part in a sigh, that Marik wanted to kiss him so, so bad, but didn't. And then, unconsciously, the smaller yami moved closer, letting out a soft noise, that indicated nothing but pure bliss. Marik was sure he'd never held anything as gently and carefully like he was holding Bakura at that moment.

Suddenly, Bakura twitched, and whimpered quietly. Growing slightly frantic, Marik began making tiny circles on the others back with his fingers, kissing his hair. Bakura stirred again, this time opening his eyes to meet the blonds, looking almost afraid.

"You are here..." He croaked, whining once more and pressed against the egyptian hopelessly. Marik kept kissing and petting the yami, hoping to calm him down. Shortly after, he suceeded, and Bakura was once again sleeping in his arms. As he expected, he kept repeating that action a few times during the night, but Marik couldn't be bothered to get upset about it.

_And I won't let go _

That night, Bakura slept well for the first time in three years.

**-The end-**

**Oh man, that was a long way for me to say "Don't do drugs y0". No seriously, don't. **

**Before anyone says anything **

**"You can't pass out because of a depression" - I could. **

**"Marik should've had _ years instead" - I did my best at my research ): **

**"Bakura was too much of a wimp D:" -Well make your own where he's macho nacho guy then**

**"You can't say that cuz it's ooc" -...I know**

**"THERE ARE GRAMMAR MISTAKES" - Please tell me and I'll correct them :3!**

**I think that's it ... FARVEL PEEPS :3**


End file.
